Valentine's Is Soooooo Worth It
by NoneButNim
Summary: Craig has never been the romantic kind of guy, ask anyone, I would know. Creek Fluff


_**A/N:**__** Hey guys! Yeah, so after a long time away from writing, I think I'm finally back in the swing of things. Mm-hmm! My computer is fixed, so that means faster updates! Yaaaay! So I wanted to write this for my girlfriend, because we kind of are the AU version of Craig and Tweek. Happy Valentine's Day, baby.**_

_**I know it's short and choppy, but really, I couldn't think of what to write. So please, bare with **__**me while I get back into the swing of things?**_

_**Disclaimer**__**: I do not own South Park, or any of it's characters.**_

_**Warning**__**: This is fluffy slash!**_

* * *

My boyfriend, Craig Tucker, is by no means a romantic person; ask anyone. So, you can imagine how surprised I was when I found a rose inside my locker before first period yesterday. I screamed and slammed my locker shut, glancing down the hallway. It was empty. Did I have a stalker? Slowly, I opened my locker again; peering at the rose like it might explode. Tied to the stem was a white satin ribbon, with the initials C.T. written in my boyfriend's handwriting. On the other side, it read "Boy's bathroom, 2nd floor, 4th sink".

A scavenger hunt? Oh, Jesus, that's a lot of pressure.

The rest of the day passed like this, however, until I had eleven red roses with satin ribbon-messages tied to the stems. On the final rose, the prettiest one, was "Stark's Pond", scribbled messily onto the ribbon, like he was in a hurry. He probably was. I hadn't seen him all day. He wasn't in Algebra, or Photography class. He'd skipped, so how had he gotten into the school to do all of this? Unless…

What if it _wasn't_ him? No, that's ridiculous, I reassured myself as I left South Park High, making my way towards my house. It was on the way, so I figured I could drop off my book bag and things before heading over to the pond. I practically ran home, dumping my bag on the couch before setting out, clutching the bouquet to my chest.

As I approached my final destination, worry churned in my stomach. Seriously, what if this wasn't Craig, and just some practical joke? It could be Cartman, or worse… What if it was the gnomes? Oh Jesus Christ.

Oh _Jesus Christ_.

But… if it _was _Craig, then he'd be left waiting if I turned and went back home now. I couldn't do that to him, especially if he had gone through all of the trouble of doing this for me. But why? What was the occasion? Our anniversary had been last week, and he'd taken me out to dinner in Denver. Today was… The fourteenth of February. Such a random day… Did it even have any significance?

The pond came into view while I was thinking, and I came to a stop at the frozen edge, gazing across the sky-blue ice. I began to survey the surrounding landscape, searching for the trademark blue hat, or blue hoodie, or cigarette smoke, or _anything_ that would tell me that Craig was actually here. But…

_He wasn't. _There was _nothing_. Just myself, and the pond, and a few trees. Great.

My stomach dropped and began to twist into uncomfortable knots as I turned from the pond and began to trek back up the hill in the direction from where I came. I stopped however, when something red caught my eye. On the snow-covered bench sat a red rose. I slowly approached. This one had no ribbon, and as I observed it, I realized it was plastic. I crouched down and plucked it up, examining it with tender strokes with my fingertips. The crunch of a boot through the frozen snow caused my head to snap up, making me flail my arms as I lost my balance.

Two strong arms wrapped about me and hauled me away from the cold ground, and up into a warm, firm chest. I inhaled. Cigarettes. My eyes slowly opened (I must have closed them), and I noticed my face was pressed into a blue hoodie. Craig's blue hoodie. My first instinct was to nuzzle into him, but instead, I hopped back, brows knitted. "Shit! The flowers! I- I'm gonna crush them!"

A chuckle escaped Craig, one that wasn't intended to be cruel as he pulled me against him again, using a hand to help me cradle the roses between our chests. His hand rose to my chin, and he lifted my head, pressing our lips together. I stood on my toes and kissed him back, before he broke it, much to my dismay. He pressed his forehead to mine, and gazed into my eyes. "Tweek…" his tone caused a shiver to run down my spine. He'd never used such a gentle tone with me. His hand dropped again, and he fingered the plastic and nylon rose, his cheek pressing to my temple. I nuzzled him with a smile. This intimacy was rare, but wholly welcome. He then swallowed thickly, like a nervous gulp, and I pulled back to gaze questioningly up at him.

"Craig…?"

He wet his lips and leaned down, brushing them over mine, his fingers sliding down to twine with mine, squeezing tightly. "I… I'm not good at shit like this… I'll… love you until the last one dies, Tweekers…" With that, the softness disappeared and he crushed his lips to mine, kissing me with all the passion he usually did. I kissed him back with vigor, my arms sliding round his neck, one hand still grasping the bouquet. He'd never been this romantic before, so why- oh.

_Oh._

I felt like the dumbest person alive. February 14th. The significance. Valentine's Day, the day of lovers. Backing up, I tossed the bouquet aside, crouching, and leaping up into his arms. My legs wrapped around his waist, and his hands cupped the underside of my thighs to keep my up as he stumbled back from the force of the hug. We began to kiss again heatedly, my head tilting and my lips parting. "I.. I love you too," I breathed between frantic kisses, my fingers fisting into his hair after tugging his hat off. The kiss broke after a few moments, and our foreheads pressed together, our eyes meeting.

Valentine's Day became my favorite holiday. I'm pretty sure it became Craig's favorite, too.

This morning in Chemistry, I heard through the grapevine (AKA Pip and Damien) that when asked about yesterday, Craig had _blushed_, flipped the couple off, and began to cram his books into his bag for his next class. "Valentine's Day sucks, and romance is for pussies," when Pip had pressed further, Craig had smirked and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, but his smile was _soooo_ worth it."


End file.
